Day 31 comes with some brotherly feels between Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, who decide to let Jiang Fengmian know just who is the one securing deals in the company, with a bonus side of Mingcheng. This also marks the last day of BeeTober and I thank everyone who stuck with me through it! <3
Jiang Cheng just settled down tackle the essay he still has to hand in, when Wei Wuxian barges into his room.
Jiang Cheng sends him a murderous glare, because Wei Wuxian promised to be out today—it’s the whole reason Jiang Cheng decided to get started on this today, after all—and Jiang Cheng is not liking this one bit.
Especially not when he sees the thunderous expression on Wei Wuxian’s face.
“What’s going on now?” Jiang Cheng asks with a sigh and turns around to Wei Wuxian.
He won’t get that essay done today, Jiang Cheng already knows it, and so he mentally says goodbye to it. He’ll have to buckle down on that tomorrow.
“I just talked to Uncle Fengmian,” Wei Wuxian says, and he immediately starts pacing Jiang Cheng’s room.
It wasn’t a nice talk, then, and Jiang Cheng can already guess what it was about.
His father informed him first, after all.
“What about?” Jiang Cheng still asks because he guesses that Wei Wuxian needs to get it all off his chest first before Jiang Cheng can tell him the good news.
“He congratulated me on a job well done,” Wei Wuxian seethes, “you know with the production of the new phone.”
Jiang Cheng nods, because of course his father did.
“So what?” Jiang Cheng wants to know because when Wei Wuxian is worked up like this, he usually needs a little prodding to spill it all and not just sit on it and let it fester.
“He congratulated me,” Wei Wuxian says and he sounds so angry about it that Jiang Cheng has to hide his smile.
It’s always good to know that at least his brother is on his side, even if his father—parent’s really, if Jiang Cheng is honest—is not.
“Me,” Wei Wuxian hisses and throws his hands up. “The audacity! As if I could have ever wrangled those deals for production. I’m good at inventing crazy shit and you’re the one doing all the important people work. And he wouldn’t even listen to me!”
“Oh, really,” Jiang Cheng replies, still so very calm, because his father has already gushed to him about Wei Wuxian’s achievement and how well he did, handling everything on his own.
Jiang Cheng had his time to be upset over this already, and he’s past it.
“Yes, really. Fuck, I really hate this. He didn’t listen to me when I tried to explain, and even when I showed him the deals that had your signature on them he was just like ‘Ah, I guess he had to sign them at the very least’ and then continued right on telling me how amazing I am.”
“So?” Jiang Cheng asks and watches as Wei Wuxian wrings his hands in front of his body.
“I wanted to strangle him so badly! How can he even say that? All of the important work was done by you! I had nothing to do with all the contract talk! I was just in my lab, inventing things that shouldn’t work, counting on you to make them presentable!”
“I see,” Jiang Cheng says, still entirely calm about this and by now he wonders just how long it will take Wei Wuxian to realize that.
It’s almost fun.
“And then!” Wei Wuxian yells on, clearly not picking up on the fact that Jiang Cheng is trying to hide his smile. “He offered me a raise. A raise! I’m an intern, or at least I should be until I have a degree. And he offered to pay me according to the things I did. Which really means he’s going to pay me for the things you did and what do you get?”
“I get paid like an intern,” Jiang Cheng mildly says and only seems to make Wei Wuxian more angry with that.
“Exactly,” he spits out. “How dare he? You’re the one who is doing all the important work and I’m just a crazy inventor. We would get nowhere if I am left to my own devices and Uncle Fengmian should know it!”
“He will,” Jiang Cheng says, absolutely certain about that, since he did just resign mere hours ago.
“Yes, he damn well will,” Wei Wuxian hisses and then plops down on Jiang Cheng’s bed. “I’m resigning. I already decided. I will resign and then I will change my major to something like—like—fuck, if I know, teaching or something and then Uncle Fengmian will see what amazing work you do.”
Jiang Cheng has half a mind just letting Wei Wuxian, just to show his father that he can’t treat them like this, but it would kind of take away from his own act of rebellion and Jiang Cheng is petty enough to admit that he wants his father to see that Wei Wuxian is not the perfect saint he seems to think he is.
Besides, Wei Wuxian loves inventing things and while he wouldn’t be entirely unhappy as a teacher, it wouldn’t make him as happy either.
“You’re remarkably calm about all of this,” Wei Wuxian suddenly says and he narrows his eyes at Jiang Cheng. “Why are you so calm about this?”
“Because father talked to me first,” Jiang Cheng says with a small shrug. “A few days ago, actually.”
“He did what?” Wei Wuxian yells again and Jiang Cheng sighs when he starts pacing again. “What did he say? How dare he? Tell me exactly what he said!” Wei Wuxian demands and Jiang Cheng sends him a pointed glance to sit the fuck back down again.
Thankfully, Wei Wuxian does.
“He came to me a few days ago, to gush about your achievements,” Jiang Cheng says, and he’s very proud of himself when there’s no hint of bitterness in his voice.
Wei Wuxian is brilliant and he deserves all the praise. Jiang Cheng simply wishes it wouldn’t come at the expense of his own praise, but he learned to accept that and he knows that it’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault.
He never tried to take this away from Jiang Cheng; it’s completely and utterly Jiang Fengmian’s fault for offering everything to Wei Wuxian and keeping nothing left for Jiang Cheng.
“He did not,” Wei Wuxian says in a horrified whisper, but Jiang Cheng only shrugs.
“Of course he did, you know him. He didn’t fail to mention my shortcomings though, so no worries. I’m slacking off and not living up to my full potential and I should take A-Xian as a good example and follow his lead,” Jiang Cheng recounts and watches as Wei Wuxian’s eyes get bigger and bigger. “And then he said how disappointed he is that I am not even trying to do my best and that I am instead unloading everything on your shoulders. Do I never think of the kind of stress that puts you under?” Jiang Cheng goes on and he almost has to laugh as he says it now.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t even function without stress and pressure and really, if anyone should think about anyone, it’s Wei Wuxian who should think about Jiang Cheng’s poor heart.
It’s not Jiang Cheng who comes barging in in the middle of the night, yelling about a new invention that’s most definitely too expensive to bring to the market and then begging Jiang Cheng who makes it work somehow.
Jiang Cheng kind of wonders if Wei Wuxian will barge into his parent’s room at night now, mostly because Jiang Cheng will not tolerate his shit anymore now that he resigned, but also just to show Jiang Fengmian what Jiang Cheng has been dealing with all the time.
Jiang Cheng can probably bribe Wei Wuxian to do that when Madam Yu is out of town.
“I am going to strangle him!” Wei Wuxian says again, and Jiang Cheng even believes him.
It’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault that they are in this position and he never asked for all this attention, either.
“You will do no such thing,” Jiang Cheng chastises him and Wei Wuxian pouts at him.
“But we have do to something!” he declares. “I cannot believe he would say that to you.”
“Please, Wei Wuxian, of course he would,” Jiang Cheng says and rolls his eyes. “You know that he never appreciated all the work I did for the company.”
“I know,” Wei Wuxian bitterly says. “And nothing I said or did helped with that either.”
“I know that you always had my back,” Jiang Cheng reassures him, because for all that he used to be horribly envious of Wei Wuxian and the ease with which he captured Jiang Fengmian’s attention, he also knows that Wei Wuxian did everything he could to praise Jiang Cheng as well.
“What are you going to do?” Wei Wuxian wants to know, before his eyes go wide in his panic. “You can’t change your major, you love business!”
And strange as that realization had been, Wei Wuxian is right about it. Jiang Cheng loves business. He is good at it, and he likes doing it, too. There is no way he’s going to change his major.
“You can’t change your major either,” Jiang Cheng says. “The poor kids don’t deserve a teacher like you,” he teases and laughs at the outraged huff Wei Wuxian lets out.
“They would be lucky to have me,” he argues and he is probably right.
But still.
“You love engineering,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh. “If you don’t get to invent shit in a controlled environment, I don’t even want to image the damage you’ll do to every unsuspecting electrical device in your vicinity.”
“Rude,” Wei Wuxian says and then, after a moment of deliberation, “but probably true.”
“It’s why I’ll go on with business and you’ll go on with engineering. It’s just that I won’t be working for father anymore,” Jiang Cheng finally says and Wei Wuxian stares at him.
“You quit?”
“Yes. A few hours ago actually, not that he seems to have noticed yet. I gave my resignation to his assistant and I guess it got lost in the paperwork. But I have proof that I handed it in, and so it’s valid.”
“I can’t believe you did that! What are you going to do?” Wei Wuxian wants to know, but his eyes are shining and Jiang Cheng hates to admit that he blushes when he identifies the emotion on Wei Wuxian’s face as pride.
“I talked to Huaisang, who talked to his brother, who invited me for a meeting,” Jiang Cheng says, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably. “I’ll be working at Nie Corps starting Monday.”
“Mingjue-ge, huh?” Wei Wuxian says, a knowing smile on his face.
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng snaps but he’s blushing, he just knows it. “It was a business meeting and I got in because I’m good at what I do.”
“Sure, sure,” Wei Wuxian says, clearly not believing Jiang Cheng at all. “And did that business meeting end with a heated kiss? Some office sex?” he asks, wriggling his eyebrows in a truly revolting and suggestive manner.
“Do your meetings with Lan Wangji usually end like that?” Jiang Cheng shoots back and then realizes his mistake a second too late. “Don’t! Don’t answer that! I don’t want to know!”
Wei Wuxian couldn’t answer him even if he tried though, because he’s laughing so hard he fell back onto the bed, clutching his sides.
“There was no kiss nor anything else,” Jiang Cheng finally just snaps out, and it’s enough to calm Wei Wuxian down again.
“And when will that finally change? We’re all tired of your pining.”
“Like all of us were tired of you pining after Lan Wangji? How long did you torture us again?”
“That was nothing like that,” Wei Wuxian protests and then shakes his head. “And even if it were, we’re not talking about me.”
“We’re always talking about you,” Jiang Cheng shoots back but he can’t help that he blushes slightly.
“Oooohhhh,” Wei Wuxian says. “Something did happen!”
“Mingjue made it very clear that I am not working under him, but under Nie Zonghui in a branch that Mingjue is not involved in at all.”
“Giving you some heavy hints there,” Wei Wuxian said with a nod. “I hope you picked up on them.”
“I’m not as dense as you are,” Jiang Cheng bites out and then sighs. “I did pick up on them. We’re going out for dinner tomorrow.”
“A date! I can’t believe my didi scored a date!”
“Shut up!” Jiang Cheng hisses and then buries his face in his hands.
He can’t believe he scored a date either, least of all with Nie Mingjue, but he’s not about to tell Wei Wuxian that.
“Well done,” Wei Wuxian says, suddenly serious again. “And I don’t just mean the date.”
Jiang Cheng dares to come out of hiding at that, and he goes warm all over, knowing that his brother is proud of him.
“Thank you.”
“Now I can’t wait for Uncle Fengmian to realize that you truly did quit—I bet he’s believing you will be back in no time—and that I’m useless without you.”
“You’re not useless,” Jiang Cheng immediately denies and then sighs. “You just need someone to reign you in.”
“Maybe I’ll go to Nie Corps, too. You think they have space for me?”
“I think Lan Wangji is going to kill Mingjue if he snatches you up and Lan Wangji doesn’t even get a chance. Besides, I kind of want father to see how much work I did do. If that’s okay with you?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Wei Wuxian nods enthusiastically. “I am so ready to make him see that it’s not me who’s the genius. And when he’s completely desperate I’ll offer to leave. And then do it, like you did. It will be perfect.”
“Family dinners are about to be a catastrophe,” Jiang Cheng groans.
“But you have other dinners to make up for that,” Wei Wuxian leers at him and then shrieks when Jiang Cheng tackles him into the bed.
Jiang Cheng is glad they still get to be like this even after all the bullshit his father puts them through and Jiang Cheng couldn’t wish for a better brother.
Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!
He’ll have to warn Nie Mingjue so that he doesn’t fall victim to Lan Wangji’s wrath just to do Jiang Cheng a favour, though. It wouldn’t do to lose him just after they started dating after all.
for the fic request thing: shadowghast + mutual pining (bc i am a basic bitch) if you please?
oh man this was... so painful (to clarify: in a fun way!) to write because if I write mutual pining my brain is just in the background throwing popcorn at the screen like “kiss already, you idiots!” and dear god I had to restrain that impulse. I hope you like it, anon!
Essek isn’t quite sure how it happens—it’s been something he’s avoided so far, rooming at first awkwardly with Fjord and Caduceus, which had been a fine if strange arrangement, or splitting a room with Yasha, who had sat across from him and sharpened the Magician’s Judge in what he prayed was meant to be a joke at his expense. Or, on most nights, when they stay in Caleb’s hut, sprawled out among the group, trying his hardest not to let his feet nudge someone else.
He manages it, usually, but often he ends up so close to Caleb that he can hear his breath, feel the soft purr of Frumpkin’s chest, that he barely gets any rest, holding his own breath to keep from doing anything that will ruin whatever tentative truce they have now.
Caleb seems the most likely to forgive him, and yet he cannot bring himself to move any further, stuck in stasis where he doesn’t have to think about the way Caleb catches him in his gaze and fixes him there like he’s being dissected.
Where he doesn’t have to think about how much he would enjoy being taken apart.
It’s not what Essek deserves anyway, that kind of intimacy, so even when the others share casual affection, he holds back. Even when Beau roughs him up, or when Caduceus pats him gently on the shoulder, or when Jester hugs him so tightly he thinks his ribs might break, he does not reciprocate beyond what might be polite.
Even when Caleb’s fingers catch his when they work on spells together, he does not let the flush make it to his face, where it might be seen.
And yet, despite what he has tried to avoid for weeks now, he finds himself sharing a tavern room with Caleb.
Veth is gone for a week, off on a trip with her family, whom Essek has continued to avoid any significant contact with. Caleb had tried to pull him into a conversation about the spell they created, pointing out to Yeza that Essek was instrumental in returning Veth to her real form, but Essek hadn’t been able to look either of them in the eye when Yeza had thanked him.
“It was the least I could do,” he’d said honestly, thinking that helping return a spouse perhaps only just made up for the fact of Yeza’s imprisonment, and had excused himself as soon as he’d thought he was able.
The girls had taken one room, Fjord and Caduceus another, and when it became clear that someone would be rooming alone—
“Essek can share with me,” Caleb shrugged, and downed half of his drink in one gulp, it seemed, to avoid the piercing and pointed stares from both Beau and Jester, where Jester was idly painting Beau’s nails—which Beau had begrudgingly allowed, but Essek recognized the helpless look on her face. He too knew what it was like to be so incapable of denying someone, which was probably why he just nodded in response to Caleb’s suggestion, mumbled a quick affirmation, and followed him upstairs when it was time to retire for the evening.
When the door closed, shutting out any further sound from outside, the silence hung in the air between them like a rope, too heavy to put down.
Essek shuffled to one of the beds, dropping his traveling cloak at the foot of it, and sank heavily into the mattress.
“Do not tell me you are already tired.” Caleb’s words were clipped, and when Essek looked at him, he wasn’t looking back. Instead, he sat down on his own bed, cross-legged, and Frumpkin leapt into the space between his legs to curl into his lap. He pulled the necklace of amber over his head, setting the pieces down in a circle, and muttered, “Una.”
His spellbook appeared in the middle of the circle, and he flipped through it absently, one wrapped palm supporting his chin.
“No,” Essek said. He didn’t need to sleep, but he didn’t think he could’ve rested if he wanted to, not knowing that Caleb was awake across from him. He fidgeted, propping himself up on one elbow, and snapped his fingers to draw his own spellbook from its pocket dimension, along with several other books he kept there while they traveled. Setting the spellbook aside, he pushed one open with the hand that wasn’t supporting him, and tried to focus on the words.
The sentences marched across the page like rows of ants, and he couldn’t pin them down enough for his eyes to focus on them. A jittery nervousness buzzed in his fingers, flicking the edges of the pages again and again, and finally, out of the corner of his eye, in the humming silence, he caught Caleb closing his own book.
“Is something wrong?”
He keeps his eyes, unmoving, on the page of his own, and wonders what he could possibly say that would explain why he’s frozen here on this bed, why he can’t look at Caleb, why he can’t speak if he doesn’t want to ruin what little trust there is between them.
He knows that the Mighty Nein have taken him with them not specifically out of a desire to have him around, but to make sure he doesn’t do anything else that rocks the continent, and to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before he can make up for what he has already done.
His presence here is little more than a prison sentence, he knows, and it is not wise to express interest in one’s jailers.
“Nothing is wrong,” he says finally, before his heart can betray him and commandeer his lungs.
“I have never seen you so distracted from a book.”
And the edge of the bed sinks as Caleb sits upon it, and Essek thinks his heart is the least of his problems when Caleb catches his jaw in one calloused hand and tilts his face up from the book.
Breath doesn’t come with those fingers on his skin, and he thinks that the pressure in his lungs is what it must feel like when Essek crushes the torsos of their foes with a flick of his wrist, everything collapsing inward.
Caleb looks at him worriedly, though his fingers do not pull away. He’s always had a far more calm and steady form of intimacy than Essek can understand—he shares it with all of the party, but he rarely seems to share it with Essek. Still, the small moments where he does, Essek tries not to look at the motions too closely, or risk drowning in them with the weight of what he wishes it meant dragging at his ankles.
“Caleb,” he exhales, and it sounds too much like a prayer, so he clears his throat and steadies his voice. “Caleb, I am fine. Merely a long day of travel.”
“I was not sure if you were hiding any hurt,” he says, and Essek’s jaw clenches, but Caleb continues, “I did not manage to follow you among the chaos of our fight this afternoon, and I wasn’t sure if you were nursing any injuries that Jester or Caduceus might be able to attend to.”
He shakes his head furiously, pulling away from Caleb’s touch, and his skin stings where the chilly air of this drafty tavern hits it. Ignoring the feeling, he sits up and closes his book. “No, no. I would not do that again.”
The group had thoroughly chastised him the first time he hid a wound, where a stray claw had caught him in the ribs. It had not been lethal even though it stung and bled so much he’d been faint, so he had not thought to request healing, but Jester and Caduceus had impressed upon him the ease with which they could fix that kind of thing, no matter how small the injury.
“Okay, good,” Caleb smiles, but his brow furrows instantly as he reads the title of the now-closed book. They’d gone through several towns to track it down, and he’d been eager to devour it, but here and now the words would not stick in his mind. “Something is wrong, though.”
Essek stares up at him. Even sitting on the bed, he is not tall enough to meet Caleb’s gaze without looking up, and the imbalance between them makes this all the more difficult. “You seem to expect some amount of concern.”
Caleb smiles wryly. “I merely thought that if I was such an objectionable roommate, you should go and knock on Fjord and Caduceus’ door now, rather than too much later.”
Essek’s face flushes, and he stammers. “No, no, this arrangement is more than fine.”
He immediately curses himself inwardly at the phrasing. He is trying not to arouse suspicion, and he seems only to be drawing more of it as Caleb raises an eyebrow.
“Very well,” Caleb says, tinged with a sorrow that Essek can’t place, and when he stands, it feels like Essek’s breath leaves with him, and he curses himself again.
“Caleb, I—“ he doesn’t quite know what to say when Caleb stops in the middle of the room, so he rubs his hands over his face before he continues. “I appreciate the generosity that has allowed me a place here. It is far beyond what I am owed, after what I have done. And I am merely… grateful to be alive.”
And he is, that’s true—but he wonders how close to death he will come before he believes himself worthy of the hum in his chest anytime Caleb touches him, when they share space for long enough that Essek thinks he might burn. Caleb watches him intently, and Essek feels as though he is still waiting for more, the way his sharp eyes hold them there, so he clears his throat.
“And I… I am grateful to you. For the chance you have given me, even with how little I have earned it.”
“I do not give you a second chance because I feel you have earned it,” Caleb says, and Essek can still feel those lips on his brow all of these weeks later. “I give you a second chance because it is the chance that was granted to me. Love is not something you earn. It is something you are worthy of, regardless of what you are worth.”
He sits again on the edge of the bed, more space between them this time, and Essek thinks this mattress might as well be a canyon. “I am…” He trails off, thinking of a childhood spent in distance. “I am learning to understand that.”
“Then I will say it again,” Caleb says, soft and thunderous all at once in this room that suddenly feels too small. “My care is something you have, Essek Thelyss. It is not something you need to ask for. It is already yours.”
Essek is so used to veiled meanings and webs of implications, and Caleb’s quiet intensity is nearly inexplicable to him. “And your affection? Is that something I need to ask for?”
He cannot believe those words have just left his mouth, but Caleb flushes almost as red as Essek feels his face is warm, so he stammers to take them back.
“I apologize, you seem very comfortable with the rest—“
“Yes,” Caleb snarls, and the ferocity of the word stops his voice in his throat. “I have spent enough time with them to know where their lines lie, what boundaries have been set. I will not infringe upon yours.” As he leans back, suddenly the space between them does not seem so large. “You seemed uncomfortable with physical affection.”
“I was under the impression that that was something that had to be earned.” He cleared his throat. “I also, ah, do have some discomfort, with many forms of intimacy. It is not something I am used to, I admit.”
Caleb breathes a laugh. “I surmised as much.”
“But it is not entirely unwelcome.”
It feels as though they were dancing around the edge of a conversation, rapidly spiraling inward, and Essek is terrified to see where this collision meets, but even in his fear he is curious by nature.
“I mean to say—yes, there are things I am… not interested in,” he says, eyes locked on the threadbare blanket covering the bed. “But others, I—“
Caleb tugs on his wrist, pulling Essek toward him, his arms settling around Essek’s shoulders. It’s tentative, and Essek makes no move to stop him. “This is alright, then?”
“Yes.” He exhales shakily as Caleb tightens his hold, and thinks that he has not felt as he safe as he does right now in a very long time. In fact, he cannot think of the last time.
Caleb’s lips rest on the top of his head, and he lets his eyes closed, still waiting for the crash. “How about this?”
“Yes.”
One of Caleb’s hands lets go, but he is still warm and held as Caleb tilts his head up to meet his, and Essek can’t bear to open his eyes, thinking he might find this was a dream.
But he doesn’t dream, after all, so he breathes again very slowly as he looks at Caleb, who stares down with the same intensity with which he casts spells. As if this is not a spell he is casting, one that he knows in his heart more than his mind. “And this?” he whispers.
Essek doesn’t answer, only presses his lips to Caleb’s, and he hopes that is answer enough.
How to check in on your aunt without it seeming like you've portended her death when that's exactly why you're asking if she's well in the first place??
(( I'm not too familiar with your characters! - Tell me a little about each one that you're interested in talking ab out, please! :D ))
The healer with a limp cuts potatoes at a counter, humming a quiet hymn learned in Lordaeron long ago beneath his breath as he works. The sound of children’s laughter echoes from somewhere else in the big manor by the sea, the home that both is and is not where he’s settled.
Home is wherever his family is, and while some is here, more is elsewhere.
Tyrvarden Grimstryke is an only child, but his found family is vast and his cousin Kalsyn, Lady Ildanan, is as near as any sister. Long rumored to be a pacifist whose dedication to helping others led him to open free clinics in the capital and—before its fall—in Dalaran, and his service to the Argent Dawn and later the Argent Crusade is well-known.
Rumor has it that he ran afoul of Garrosh Hellscream some years ago and that may have played a role in the death of his then-fiancée. These days, he’s said to be running a hospital somewhere in the southeast of the Kingdom, attached to some unit or another, whose activities have been classified at the highest levels.
Married, now, to a former Scryer with three children, and seemingly well-settled.
So why is it that he’s so often rumored to have been seen consorting with mostly Alliance-based elements of the Argent Crusade and writing and sending cryptic warnings? Why has he been seen remarkably often on and around Murder Row?
